All Work and No Play
by amillionyears
Summary: She's an unwanted Latina looking for stable ground; she's a dumb blonde looking to make something out of herself. Will they achieve their aspirations, together? Brittana/AU
1. May I Take Your Order?

"Don't think you will _ever _make it as a Dallas Cowboy cheerleader, you creation of the devil. You disgrace your family and the Lord... And for the last _damn _time Santana, _stop calling my house."_

The line went dead and the young woman dropped the phone in unison with the tear rolling down her cheek. She wondered what made this time any more painful than the last, as she had wondered the previous time and the times before... Calling to wish her abuela a Merry Christmas had ended her with a scolding for even celebrating Christ at all, again earning her the title of 'creation of the devil.' Calling to see how her brother was doing, who had accepted her and emailed her from time to time, had ended badly when her mother answered the phone by mistake. And on one occasion her own father had simply called her to wish her the worst of luck wherever she was. She had become accustomed to the hate.

_Then why is it I can't stop crying each time?_

Santana Lopez let out a soft sigh as she furiously swatted at her tears and fell into the comforting embrace of her pillows. Working part time at a coffee joint, McDonald's, and as physical trainer for kids at the gym hardly got her enough to keep herself from starving and to pay the rent on her apartment. Why did she think she was so ready to pay the fees for Dallas Cowboy Cheerleader training?

In a cloud of thought, she returned the phone to its dock as she rolled over to check the time. It was 6:00, and if she wanted to stop by the gym before her morning shift at Simply Caffeine, she would need to hurry.

* * *

><p>"Love you too, mom."<p>

Brittany ended the call on her cellphone by pressing the small red button. She took a look around the grandeur living room, her eyes scanning over a plasma television and a million dollar chandelier as she let out another sigh. Another day spent living in her mother and sister's shadow, expected to become either the next Dallas Cowboy Cheer Squad coach or a beautiful blue-eyed blonde model. Though she knew she wasn't the smartest, she still wished she had a choice.

"Oh!" she gasped, the wild beeping of the smoke detectors shocking her out of her thoughts. She hurried into the kitchen, weaving her way through the granite topped counters as she rushed for the oven, "Oh dear, oh dear..."

She pressed the off button on the smoking appliance before opening it, coughing as she got a face full of thick gray smoke. Once the air cleared she reached in, her fingers only lightly grazing the metallic pan before they jerked away in shock, "Ow!"

This time before pulling out the pan, she slipped an oven mitt over her hand while bracing herself for the worst. When she opened her tightly closed eyes, she found yet another ruined batch of muffins. She let out a huff as she set the tray of inedible substances on the counter.

She had just begun to go over the things she may have done wrong when a plump woman turned the corner, her dark eyes meeting the muffins, "Another batch, Miss Pearce?" she laughed lightly, "Shall I cook a decent one?"

"Oh, no thank you, Minerva," the blue-eyed girl smiled, "I think I'll be going out for breakfast. Eating your muffins sort of reminds me of how many times I fail to cook my own, so..."

"Understandable. Will you be walking or shall I call in Eddie?" the cook asked with a gentle smile, referring to the chauffeur who lived in the guest house along with herself.

"Walking, thank you," Brittany answered, grabbing her purse before she headed out of the door, Minerva's shouts of, "Be careful!" and "Watch for cars!" following her on her way out.

* * *

><p>"Thank you, Stacy," a sweaty, disheveled Latina said gratefully while she rushed in just a few minutes before the shop opened. The brunette behind the counter just nodded, tossing Santana her apron and baseball cap.<p>

"Welcome as usual, Sannie," she replied, flipping on the switches of the numerous coffee machines before she washed her hands, "but Roderick is beginning to get a little skeptical of your constant absences. You might want to hit the gym earlier or quit working out for so long."

Santana nodded as she tied her apron and pulled her ponytail through her hat. She hurriedly washed her hands and replied with a distracted, "Yeah, I'll try."

Her friend looked her over with a hand attached to her hip and her eyebrow raised, "What's got your mind?"

"Nah, nothing," Santana assured, "Just... thinking."

"About...?" Stacy probed with a poke to the Latina's shoulder, "C'mon, you know you aren't getting off _that _easily, babes."

"Really, it's nothing."

A sharp voice from the back cut in, "Girls, quit the chatter and restock the cups! We only have five minutes until we open!"

Stacy rolled her eyes and Santana leaned into whisper, "If that guy's penis were as big as his mouth, maybe someone would actually listen to him."

The brunette snickered and replied with a, "Damn straight."

The conversation ended while the two girls worked to set up, Santana busy with the cups and Stacy with the spoons, forks, napkins, and other miscellaneous items. It wasn't but a few minutes until the manager came out, eying the two before he walked over to unlock the door.

It was only then that the two girls at the counter noticed the ditsy blonde who had been tugging furiously on the door. Roderick looked her over before turning, muttering something about a dumb blonde and a broken door.

Stacy leaned over to Santana as the young woman strolled curiously into the shop, glancing around, "You've got this one. This is payback for all the time you turned over the dummies to me," she whispered.

Nodding, the Latina turned to the pretty girl as she finally reached the counter. Their eyes met, blue against brown, and Santana just managed to stutter, "M-may I take your order?"

**A/N: I'm actually very proud of this first chapter. :) Remember, this is an AU story and doesn't relate to the episodes. Takes place in Dallas, Texas. Read and review, please and thanks!**


	2. Call Dropped

It had been a few days later and Santana's mind had been occupied with nothing but the blonde she had met at the coffee shoppe. Brittany, she had been told, Brittany P. Her eyes, the way she smiled, as if there was nothing wrong with the world when in reality it would be better to list the things that weren't wrong, absorbed the Latina's every thought. Her awfully charming stupidity was captivating, to say the least. It would be saying the least for Santana to admit she was attracted to the mystery girl.

She knew it was highly unlikely she would ever meet Brittany again, however. Dallas was a big city and if you weren't a regular customer, it was highly unlikely you would ever be seen in Simply Caffeine again. The coffee was too strong and only for either men or the middle-aged, which, unfortunately for him, left Roderick looking like a pervert the way he hired any attractive young woman looking for a job.

Therefore Santana tried to diminish any hope of seeing the girl again. She reminded herself there was too much on her plate for romance, especially since she was also left wondering about the sexuality of Brittany, and she would need a clear head. She had exactly two more days left until the initial cheerleader tryouts were, and more after that. She knew she would be running on thin ice and exhausted from day to day with the added work of her three jobs. But it was what she wanted, and it would get her on her feet. Brittany was only a hope, a hope she needn't focus on.

* * *

><p>"Please mom," the blonde begged with a deflated sigh and slumped shoulders, "I really don't want to coach the cheerleaders this year..." she trailed off. Her mother looked up excitedly, not in the slightest bit perturbed by her daughter's decline.<p>

"Then you want to begin modeling lessons, dear?"

Brittany stood at a crossroad. She didn't want to be a model, not in the slightest bit. She didn't want to be her sister's clone, even if she did admire her slightly; but this didn't mean she wanted her other option, either.

"No," she said, the continuation of her voice diminishing in the back of her throat. She sat back and put on a small smile, "I suppose I'll go with you to the cheerleader thing."

The smile on her mom's face made the young woman's slightly more genuine, though it fell as her mother checked the time and said, "Sorry, dear, business meetings call," she pecked a kiss on Brittany's cheek before disappearing, shouting through the house to remind the maid of the load of laundry. It wasn't long before Minerva appeared, noting the befallen look on the blonde's face.

"You're looking spent," she said, pressing a motherly palm to the blonde's cheek, "You aren't sick, are you?"

"No," Brittany answered, standing and pushing aside Minerva's hand, "I just need a nap. Thank you, though."

As she left the room, the maid couldn't help but sigh. She had been working here since the girl was around ten. And here she was, a proud twenty two even if her IQ didn't live up to her age's standards, all grown up and still needing the mother she never really had, trying to fulfill the dreams that were never really hers.

* * *

><p>"I'm sorry, Santana," the phone line gave off a constant static buzz as the girl walked around, trying to get a better signal so she could hear her brother, "I won't be there for your first game. Duty calls, you know, and we're heading into Iran the day before. Wish I could be there."<p>

She let herself smile, "You act like I'll make the team," she said with a mix of amusement and disappointment in her voice. She hadn't spoken to her brother in two months, avoiding taking her chances ever since the incident with her mother. Now that she'd learned he had been drafted into the army, it was harder to bear.

"Course you will. Even if you didn't like your coach, Lima did wonders for your reputation as a cheerleader," he was sure to keep his voice sensitive, knowing his little sister hated her hometown with a passion.

"I'd rather not speak about that place right now," Santana said as she stepped out onto the small balcony of her apartment. It had an overlook of a back alley and it always smelled like dumpster, since the large green tub was just below her overhang. She pinched her nose and let out a sigh.

"Alright, s –" his voice cut off mid sentence. Slowly, dreading what she would see, she removed the phone from her ear. _Call dropped._

* * *

><p>Brittany rode in the back of her mother's car, her eyes on the scenery passing by. She was on her first trip to the Dallas Cowboy Cheerleader tryouts, her mind anywhere but there and fluttering to happy thoughts to avoid sinking further into her funk.<p>

It wasn't long until the car pulled into the lot and the blonde was forced to follow her mother inside the large stadium. Her mother chattered happily, occasionally greeting a few of the hundred girls gathered outside the stadium. The girl gulped, realization dawning on her. This would not be a quick affair, considering it was two hours before the doors to the tryouts opened and already so many girls were here.

"Brittany, dear, take a seat," her mother said, her voice dripping with motherly instruction. Brittany noticed they had entered the field and her eyes circled around in amazement as she took a seat in the director's chair.

"It's so big," she muttered, so awed by the enormity of the football field to notice her sister strolling up, her breasts spilling out of her shirt and her lipstick and smile plastered on to the extreme.

"Brittany! Say hello to your big sister!"

The blonde looked up to meet her sister's eyes and halfhearted embrace. She pat her back and Brittany simply returned the hug, wondering what happened to the non sarcastic sibling who had left last Christmas. She simply shrugged to her thoughts and returned to her seat, muted as her relatives engaged in conversation. _Yes, _she thought, _this is going to be a long day._

* * *

><p><em> "Santana!"<em>

The Latina grumbled and rolled over, "Shut up," she mumbled to the pestering voice yelling in her ear. She didn't even notice that it was her friend's, her mind just begging for sleep. The previous nights she hadn't been able to sleep, worrying about her brother and pondering over the same blue-eyed face that had invaded her thoughts for nearly a week.

"Sannie, don't you tell me to shut up," _Stacy. _She now recognized the voice as her coworker and friend. Slowly, she opened her heavy eyelids and stared back into the green eyes of her friend, "You're going to be late for tryouts!"

That's when her mind buzzed in alert and she sat up, ignoring the throbbing in her head from the sudden movement as her eyes sped to the clock.

_Shit, shit, shit! _

She threw back the covers with such force there was a loud ripping sound from the fabric. She snatched up her uniform with little care and began to change, struggling with the underarmour for a moment before she managed to wiggle into it. Once she had dressed and grabbed her make-up bag, she turned to Stacy, who was now nonchalantly playing a game of Fruit Ninja on her iPod.

"Drive me to the stadium, _now._"

**A/N: Finally! I've written this thing three freaking times and I'm finally happy with it. I don't like it as much as the first chapter, but I don't necessarily dislike it. Tell me what you think?**

**Also, a big thanks to everyone! I wasn't expecting so many fanfiction notices when I checked my email the morning after I posted. Thanks everyone for the alerts, favorites, and reviews. Really, it means a lot.**

**R&R, please and thank you.**


	3. I Know You

Santana Lopez was the only person in the room filling out her forms, and she was dreading the reaction she would get from whatever people she would face. She only hoped that she would be able to use the same charm she used none too lightly to convince them that she was worth the wait.

"What are my goals in life?" she asked herself aloud, the cap of her borrowed pen twisting beneath her teeth as she contemplated this. Deciding against her most persistent thoughts, she hurriedly scribbled down _to become a Dallas Cowboy cheerleader, _and moved on.

The rest of the form was filled hastily and with little thought. The Latina realized that she would be going on her solo tryouts alone unless she was given the chance to repeat anything, which she doubted. She had chosen the last day to come, the last minute to wake up, and she would be suffering the consequences.

* * *

><p><em>Step, step, turn. Pop it, drop, kick. Step step, out in, turn, turn, and leap.<em>

Her blue eyes followed the choreographer's instruction with attention, attention that had no desire to be indulged in her relatives' quickly paced conversation about lipstick and eyeshadow colors. Her feet tapped to the upbeat rhythm of the dance music and, though she would admit she wasn't the smartest, she would say with confidence that she knew this dance better than any of the girls out there.

"Brittany!"

She jumped, clumsily trying to balance her stool without falling off after she had nearly tipped it over. To her dismay, she ended up tumbling to the ground and earning obnoxious laughter from her older sister.

"Oh, Bree," she cooed, "Mommy was just trying to ask you your opinion."

Standing, the blonde shrugged, "I don't know what you guys were talking about," she mumbled, disinterested and slightly annoyed that her sister didn't seem to realize that Brittany was no longer her baby sister.

The two other woman shrugged off her attention and she was left to watching the potential cheerleaders dance to the music. She couldn't help but imagine how much better she would be at the steps than they were, and what look she would get from her mother if she ever proposed such a foolish idea.

* * *

><p>Santana tucked her packet in her cheer bag and sat back, her eyes on the clock. She vaguely remembered watching the reality television show featuring the group she was trying out for, and knew that it would be no use going in there and announcing her tardiness to the amusement of all of the other girls. She would save herself the looks and the whispers she remembered too well from high school and wait for the solo session.<p>

* * *

><p>So far the blonde felt that the solo tryouts were the least interesting of them all, and the chatter from her mother and sister that followed afterward were the rudest of all. She twirled her hair around her finger, trying to focus, but under the gaze of the cheerleaders who wanted to escape the judging faces of her relatives, all she wanted to watch was the grass.<p>

"Oh, she was absolutely fabulous. And that lipstick was the perfect shade. It matched with her green eyes and amber locks – oh, if I weren't as pretty myself I would kill for her face!"

"But she was a little curvy," her mother protested, "She would make a good spot, I suppose. Add her to the list."

Brittany couldn't help but compare their constant conversations to America's Next Top Model as they continued. Soon, however, she found herself lightly dozing off in her seat, her head constantly falling before jerking back upward again as the tried, but didn't succeed, at keeping herself awake for the entire time.

Soon she was in the middle of a pleasant dream where for once, she didn't burn the muffins. She watched her face light up as the batch of perfectly made treats were produced from the oven, then at her maid's face. Confusion passed over her as Minerva spoke, _"But your name isn't on the list."_

The voices were becoming more real and slowly, the image of her dream passed, but the thing that shook her to reality the most was the familiar voice she just couldn't put her finger on.

"I know, traffic troubles on the way," Brittany slowly looked up, shaking the curtain of blonde hair that had fallen over her face while sleeping. Her blue eyes widened slowly as she noticed the person standing there. Though she wasn't wearing her coffee shop hat or apron, Brittany easily recognized the Latina girl as S-a-n-t-a-n-a.

Before she could stop herself, she spoke, "I know you!"

* * *

><p>Santana was too clouded by her own thoughts to notice the hell breaking loose when who seemed to be the beautiful blonde's relatives began to question Brittany endlessly. She had turned, running a hand through her hair before she put on her signature smirk that hid her inner thoughts, and turned back around.<p>

She had her chance, had her chance to talk to this captivating girl about more than her coffee order, or at least had the chance to set up a time for that. Santana could almost hear Stacy, one of the only people outside of Lima who knew she was a lesbian, egging her on to get her number. And hell, she didn't see why she shouldn't, because even if her family hated her Lopez knew she was the hottest piece of anything in this town.

But first, she needed to focus on persuading the other two that she was worthy of this audition.

"If you'll excuse me," she cut in, unable to hide the overconfident snark in her tone, "I believe the real issue here is me and why I'm here."

She seemed to have the three women's attentions by now, so she continued, "I know I wasn't here for the other sessions. Do forgive me for that, I was busy filling out my paperwork," she produced the packet from her bag, "and was initially late due to the fact that I underwent traffic troubles. If I didn't know any better, I would say those streets out there belong to LA. So, if you don't mind, I'll audition."

Her impromptu speech seemed to earn her her request and she was allowed to begin her routine, though not without a bitch face from the second youngest woman from the trio. She noticed it all to well and decided to return it in her smirk as her routine began, though the entire time she only had eyes for the beautiful, familiar girl on the end.

**A/N: I'm pretty content with this chapter and like it fair enough, though, as always, I want to hear what the readers think! Reviewing makes me feel fluffy inside, to all you fans, so please, tell me what you like and don't like in a review. ^-^**

**Now, a little note, Brittany's thoughts may seem a bit more mature than what they would be now, in the shows. This is because she's older, so if any of you were wondering, there you have it.**

**A big thanks to everyone who's responded, whether it be in reviews, adding my story to favorites and alerts, or even reading. **

**Have a great day. :D  
>-amillionyears<strong>


	4. Call Me, Blondie

Tryouts were over and Santana was feeling quite confident about her solo audition. Once the chaos had cleared between the blonde and her overprotective kin, the casting coach had decided that she would _consider _(Santana noted that the woman couldn't have stressed that enough) giving the Latina a position on the team.

Now Santana loitered outside of the stadium, waiting for her chance to catch Brittany. She closed her eyes and let her senses take over for a moment while her brain settled down from its previous overdrive. She didn't care that she would be late again, and this time dragging Stacy down with her, for her next shift at Simply Caffeine, so long as she got her chance with Britt.

_Funny, _she mused, _I've already given her a nickname. _

What made Santana Lopez so confident with herself and her position to make such a bold move toward a girl she should have been 80%, hell, 90% sure was straight, she could only imagine. Perhaps it was fate, or maybe it was God apologizing for making her life a living hell, that gave her such a mind set. Or maybe it was due to all of the scenarios she had replayed once, twice, three times each night before she fell asleep. She didn't know, she didn't care, but she was damn glad that such a confidence existed.

_"Brittany, dear, mommy and sissy will be waiting in the car. Do hurry up."_

The voice shattered all thoughts of the Latina leaning against the wall. She stood up straight and polished her clothing, making sure that if she was stuck in a skimpy cheer uniform on their first formal introduction, she would look as sexy as humanly possible.

"Coming!" came a stressed reply before a bounding young woman could be seen heading toward the parking lot, a stack of papers towering high in her arms and bright blue eyes oblivious to the floating pieces drifting in her wake.

Before she stepped out into the hall, Lopez put on a smirk and spread her arms to signal for the other woman stop, "Here," she began smoothly, "Let me help."

"Oh... okay."

Brittany followed Santana with her curious stare, flushing lightly once she took notice of all of the papers that had fallen behind her, "Oops, sorry."

"No problem."

It was a matter of a few minutes when all of the papers were gathered and stacked neatly, distributed evenly into two manageable stacks. They walked in silence, one wearing a smirk and the other an airy, ditsy smile.

When the car was only a few feet away and Santana was sure that Brittany's mother and sister were too deep in conversation to notice, she tore a bit of paper off of one in the stack, "You got a pen?" she questioned.

For a moment the blonde hesitated before she shoved a hand in her purse and held out a bobby pin. Santana glanced down and shook her head, "To write with, hun."

"Oh."

A bit more rummaging later and a feather-topped pen was handed over. The Latina smiled, jotted down her number in scrawled handwriting, folded the paper, and topped Brittany's stack of paper with it, "Call me, blondie."

There was a short silence before a confused looking blonde nodded, took the remaining papers from Santana, and headed for the car. The Latina just smirked and decided she wouldn't tell Brittany about the papers that sill managed to fly out of the stack.

* * *

><p><em> "Call me, blondie."<em>

Brittany replayed the words over and over again in her head. Santana, she had learned to pronounce, had stopped her, at a moment when she was free of her mother and sister, and handed her a slip of paper. It had nothing on it. Nothing at all.

She sat back on her bed with a sigh. Her fat, lazy cat crawled up in her lap with a low purr and she stroked the hair down his spine, "Oh, Lord Tubbington, if only you could talk. I'm sure you would know what it means."

"Brittany," there was a voice before Minerva stepped in, a tray of cookies and milk in hand with a basket of laundry resting on the opposite hip, "Are you retired for the night, dear?"

Brittany blinked, "I'm unemployed."

An all to familiar chuckle came from the maid before she spoke, "I meant are you going to bed now?"

"Oh," Brittany sighed, "Yes ma'am."

"Well," Minerva dropped the laundry and the laughter, though when she spoke the amusement was hard to shield, "I have some cookies and milk if you want any."

"Some milk for Lord Tubbington, please."

A glass was placed on the bedside table and Minerva was gone. Brittany turned over and sank into the comfort of her bed, clapping once to rid the room of the light.

That night, she was lulled to sleep by the memory of the mysterious Santana's voice and the sound of her cat lapping up his milk.

* * *

><p>"I'm telling you, Stace. Not one call and it's been two days now," Santana conversed over the roaring of the coffee machine behind her. She swiped the counter with a wet rag, returning a customer's impatient glare with a sneer.<p>

"You sure she knows how to use a phone, Sannie?" joked the brunette with a laugh.

"I'm sure," the Latina replied while rolling her eyes, which quickly turned to her watch, "Oh, shift is over, let's head out."

The two abandoned their posts, leaving the machines running and customers waiting without a care. It had been a long day in the shop because apparently it was 15% off day for anyone over the age of fifty, which was pretty much most of their regular buyers.

Before Santana could follow her friend out of the door, a hand stopped her. She turned to look at Roderick, "What do you want?"

"Santana, loose the attitude," the manager warned, "because it sure as hell isn't going to make your situation any better, doll-face."

The Latina perked an eyebrow and let her mouth fall slightly agape in sync with the expression in her dark brown eyes, "Spit it before I go all kinds of Lima Heights on your ass." However much she hated her town, the sound of her previous home sure was intimidating.

"Alright," Roderick said, "I'll just be straight with you. Santana Lopez, you're fired."

**A/N: This update was long overdue! Sorry readers, I got a bit caught up in personal events and procrastinated the time I had off. Sadly, though, I can't promise a more frequent update; school is just around the corner and I haven't thought much about the next chapter quite yet.**

**About the chapter, I'm going to repeat myself when I say, I like it fair enough. Questions, comments? Don't forget my love for reviews. ;)**

**Much thanks to everyone who's added me to favorites, alerts, and a special thanks to reviewers. It makes my day to see one. ^^'**


	5. Waiting

The back of the shop had been total mayhem when Santana Lopez exploded, half angry and half devastated. _Why? _Why _then, _when her job there was practically her lifeline as the other two sure as hell weren't paying enough to keep her on her feet and paying rent on her apartment. Let alone at that point in time she was preparing herself to pull money out of her ass to pay for those damn, expensive as hell DC cheer leading fees.

She needed to know what the reason was so she could get down on her knees and promise to change whatever the hell it was that had caused this. Roderick had been putting up with her tardiness for a while, why did this experience change anything? And what was with that unrecognizable look on Stacy's face when she found out?

It was all beginning to become a bit too much for the Latina to handle alone. She wanted, she _needed _a call from Brittany just for the sake of a call and some assurance that the ditsy blonde wasn't purposely blowing her off. Not to mention Stacy wasn't calling, nor would answer Santana's constant calling to find out why she was fired.

_Why had Santana Lopez been fired?_

The question was killing her, and if she didn't get the answer soon, she was afraid of the standards she may drop to to get it.

* * *

><p>"Hey, Minerva," Brittany clutched the piece of paper in her hand as she shuffled into the laundry room. She glanced around, sure she had never been in this part of the house before now.<p>

"I'm back here, dear," the maid said and the blonde blinked.

"You're behind the washing machine?" 

"No, no," Minerva said with a soft smile before poking her head around the corner of an archway, "Over here. What do you need, Brittany?"

The blonde slowly walked over and joined the maid in the other half of the laundry room. Instead of a constantly buzzing and working washer and dryer, neat and meticulously labeled baskets filled with the household's clothing and cleaning supplies filled the room. Once she was finished with her look around, Brittany turned to Minerva and spoke, "I need you to help me with something."

"Well, go ahead and tell me before I'm off for lunch," the older woman teased, causing the blonde to grin slightly before she shoved out her arm, opening her clenched fist and revealing a small piece of paper.

"Someone gave this to me. She said for me to call her, but there isn't anything on it," the blonde explained.

Minerva looked over the blonde once and could tell by her expression that she really wanted to know this. It wasn't just a dumb, confused question; she was genuinely wanted the knowledge of what whoever gave this to her meant by it. The maid took the paper from her palm.

Quite simply, Minerva unfolded the paper and revealed the number written on it.

* * *

><p><em>I kissed a girl, and I liked it, the taste of her cherry chap stick.<em>

_ I kissed a girl, just to try it, hope my boyfriend don't mind it._

_ It felt so wrong, it felt so right, don't mean I'm in love tonight._

_ I kissed a girl and I liked it, I liked it._

The Latina was so deep into her slumber the chorus of her ring tone had played twice and a verse had followed before she groggily awoke. Just when the caller may have given up, though, she hastily jabbed her finger at the answer button and pulled the phone to her ear, "Santana Lopez speaking."

"Uh... hello," the voice on the opposite end was timid. Santana easily identified it as familiar, and female. She was tempted to remove the phone from her ear for a brief second to check the number before the person continued, "This is Brittany, Brittany Pierce."

* * *

><p>About an hour later Santana Lopez found herself opening the door to a coffee shop, not Simply Caffeine, but a new coffee shop. She pissed herself off by symbolizing it in her head as something more than it wasn't, but her mind told her this would be a new start. Somewhere with some coffee that didn't suck ass, and being that somewhere with a person she found absolutely adorable. Sure, she knew the "relationship" was a bit one-sided at this point, but hell if she cared.<p>

The Latina went ahead and ordered her drink, hardly patient enough to wait for her caffeine dosage that morning. She briefly let her eyes go to the clock behind the counter, confirming herself when she realized it was approximately 10 am. From what she knew of where the blonde lived, Brittany would be arriving shortly.

A short thank you later Santana had taken her seat at one of the tables. She wasted no time in tasting the coffee, and once the taste had slowly taken a liking to her taste buds, she vowed that, though it was a block and a half more than she was used to walking, that she would never drink anything from Simply Caffeine again. She always knew the coffee was absolutely terrible, but a drink of something that was actually good shocked her to her senses.

Smiling, the Latina continued her drink and watched the people outside pass, like a child awaiting the ice cream truck as she watched carefully for Brittany. Each blonde hair and slight frame had her eyes moving to the face, though each disappointed by being helplessly uglier than the one she was looking for. An for the next hour, that was all Santana Lopez would be doing: waiting.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **As you can see, I've changed the style of my author's notes. So once you see the bold "A/N," the chapter is over. ^^' Sorry if you saw the page break and got your hopes up, but... hey! I updated!  
>About the chapter, this is my second favorite, the first being just above it. I don't really know why, but I like it. (And, here comes the question...) Care to comment?<p>

As always, I'll end my note with a thank you from everyone who reviewed, alerted, favorited, or read!


	6. Until Next Time

Santana was never the type to give up, but there she was, walking furiously outside of the coffee shop with her brow furrowed and her eyes set on the path firmly ahead of her. Any poor pedestrian on the sidewalk not paying attention to the quick paced saunter of the Latina ahead of them was shoved aside as she fought to keep her emotions caged and hidden from the public.

She knew what had made her so upset and wasn't about to question it. She had been stood up, something she had never fathomed from someone like Brittany. _She's too good for you, anyways. It's a sign, _she tried to convince herself, but then the other part of her thoughts would scream in retaliation, _Maybe something came up - you still have a chance!_

Sighing in frustration, she wiggled the key out of the lock and stepped into the apartment. As if on cue, her cellphone (discarded on the kitchen counter that morning in a hurry to reach the coffee shop) gave a loud, blaring ring, shocking Santana a bit from her overwhelming thoughts.

Curiously, she walked over to the bar. She slid the phone over to her, checking the caller ID and raising her eyebrow at the name: _Brittany._

"Hello?" she breathed.

"Hi... uh, Santana, where are you?"

The Latina's mouth dropped and she scoffed, "I'm at my freaking apartment. I waited an hour for you in that damned place, you stood me up. What do you mean, where am _I_?"

There was hesitance from the voice on the other line before Brittany spoke, cautiously, almost regretfully, "I'm sorry, please don't be mad at me," she begged. Santana winced at her tone, "my mom... she came home and... Look, I'm sorry - I really am. Don't be mad at me, Santana."

The young woman bit down on her lip before she huffed, "It's fine," she muttered, "but you could have at least called me."

"I forgot to put your number in my phone last time and I sort of lost the paper you gave me. I called you once I realized I had a missed call... I'm sorry."

"_Stop _saying sorry already, okay?" The Latina grumbled, "It's fine. We can just do it another time, I guess. That is, if it's okay with you... and your, uh, mom."

"Yeah, yeah," came a rushed reply the guilt in Brittany's tone draining to be replaced by a sound of relief, "Until next time, Santana."

* * *

><p>"Brittany, honey, who was that you were just on the phone with?"<p>

"Oh, nobody," the blonde said as she recovered from the shock of her mother's once sweet voice (but now sickeningly so) giving an abrupt question, "Uh, just a friend," she quickly added at the sight of her mother's skeptical expression.

"Okay," her mother sounded unconvinced, "Well, I need you to come with sissy and I up to the stadium. We're going to consult a few of the casting directors with the films of the cheerleaders' solo tapes and I want you there to help create the final drafting."

"Sure thing," Brittany gave a halfhearted smile, "Just let me gather my things."

* * *

><p>"I know you're ignoring me, Santana. I know you're just going to delete this voice mail when you see who it's from, but it's worth a shot. I can't tell you why you got fired," the distressed young woman refrained from adding: <em>you'd hate me if I told you<em>, "but please, just... call me back? You can't stay mad at me forever," _you could if I would just come out with it already, _"We can talk about it over coffee..." she was pleading now, begging, "I don't want to loose you. So... uh, yeah. Call me back."

Stacy sighed, staring down at the phone as she slowly lowered her thumb to the end call button. With a deep breath, she pushed aside her thoughts and headed into Simply Caffeine for her next shift.

* * *

><p>"Alright, so here's the final casting list," Brittany fought off sleep as she watched her mother and sister, along with a few other women on the casting board, pool over the final list of girls who made the team. There were satisfied smiles around the table, including Brittany's as she glanced down at her phone.<p>

_Just finished a shift at McDonald's, meet for coffee in two hours? - S_

_sure thing - B_

"Brittany, thoughts?"

"Hm?" the blonde looked up, her gaze traveling downward to the list of names and pictures. She found herself searching for that face - pretty, dark skinned - the face of her friend. She looked once, twice, even a third time before she realized _it just wasn't there._

"What about Santana?" she found herself blurting out before she could consider the questioning glances she would receive.

"You mean the last girl? Yeah, she didn't make it," Brittany's older sister was clearly feigning disappointment, "We can't allow her on if she only showed up for one session of the auditions. I guess she'll just have to wait until next time."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Written and relieved. I love how this turned out, but I'm sorry it had to wait weeks before I updated. I just got awfully lazy and caught up with nothing but then again, everything. I posted a Klaine story and got overexcited and just completely disregarded this one for a while - not to mention my computer issues. But anyways, I updated and I plan to a bit more often because I don't want to give up on this story since I love it more than I let on.

So, my apologies again. Read and review, if you haven't given up on it (those who are following), and if you haven't - thanks! ;)


	7. Secrets

"Thanks for coming," Brittany smiled sweetly, joining her new found friend at one of the many tables at the coffee shop. The Latina returned the statement with a sad smile, clearly disappointed with the news that had been delivered shortly after the other found out.

Brittany made note of the change in attitude and bit her lip, tucking a strand of her honey blonde hair behind her ear, "So..." she began awkwardly, casting a look up to find tears welling up in Santana's eyes, "Are you okay?"

There wasn't a response from the Latina, who only raised her coffee to her lips and took a slow sip and casted a glare over at the clueless young woman who had continued to interrogate her. Out of good intentions, sure, but what Santana was accustomed to was loneliness and the concern was foreign to her.

"Just... let me think, okay?" The comment had come out a bit sharper than intended, causing the other to shrink back slightly and give a bleak nod.

For half of the next hour, the two sat in silence. Neither were comfortable, yet neither made to leave. She wouldn't admit it to anyone other than herself, but the company of the blonde was soothing for her. Just one look over at Brittany and her melancholy thoughts would momentarily dissipate, leaving just a distant feeling of happiness.

Her brown eyes shot up as the other spoke, "Santana, I can help you."

The Latina perked her eyebrow inquisitively, leaning forward, "I don't have all day," she commented with half of her usual smirk.

Brittany couldn't help but give a relieved smile, "You know, how my mom's a casting director?" She waited to receive a nod from the other before she continued, "Well, this year, I'm sort of... uh, wanted on the board. And I might have a say in some of it."

If there was anything Santana Lopez had learned of the last few years of her life, it was how to read emotions. Though no one would expect Brittany to give anything much thought, it was obvious that she had given her decision just that. But what really got Santana was the expression, an expression that read: it's for you, nothing good is coming out of it for me.

"Are you sure?" Santana spoke up, her eyes darting to the other's hand before she gently took it in hers (but only after making sure the shop was decently empty and the employees weren't paying attention). "From what I've gathered, your mother isn't the most understanding of people."

"It's worth a try, right?" Brittany briefly made notice of their interlocked hands before her gaze was stolen from her by her violently buzzing cellphone. She lifted it to check a text and let out a heavy sigh, "Family dinner, I have to go. I'll put in a word for you, okay?"

Santana could only nod and let the electric feeling of Britt's hand on hers slowly disappear from her nerves as she watched the blonde exit the shop.

* * *

><p>"So you're saying if I let your friend on," Brittany's mother's distaste was clear in her voice, "You'll be willing to help me coach <em>and <em>model during the off-season?"

"Yes," Brittany answered. She knew she wasn't the best at math, but she could say with confidence that this wasn't the first time she had answered that exact question.

There was a soft chuckle from Minerva as she gathered the family dishes and made off into the kitchen to check on the night's dessert. Brittany's sister could only sit, mouth agape, "Why all of this for that girl?"

Brittany shrugged, "She's my friend, and that's all that matters, right?"

The two other blonde women gave a united, "Hm," as they silently agreed. Brittany's mother spoke, "Very well. I suppose I should go call her after dinner, then?"

"No, let me," Brittany assured, earning her a skeptical glance from both at her enthusiasm. She had grown used to the questioning stares and simply left it for now. That, and she had become easily distracted by the wafting smell of cookies entering the room from the kitchen.

"Then it's settled," the oldest of the three said, "Santana Lopez is officially a Dallas Cowboy Cheerleader."

* * *

><p><em>"Hold on, Stacy, I've got another call."<em>

The line clicked and the brunette gave a frustrated sigh. The one time Santana had called her back and two words into the conversation she had to go already. Stacy knew it wasn't her place to be upset, not with what she had done, but she couldn't help but feel ignored.

She paced the floor while she waited. Occasionally she would take a sip of her water or eye the episode of _Jersey Shore _from across the dining table, but her main focus on how her friend would take it. She had known Santana for only a year and she already knew what was to come of this confession, and that she was giving up a secret for a friendship.

She jumped as the person on the other end returned, screaming and shouting excitedly, _"I made the team!"_

Stacy took the phone to her ear and gave a small smile, "Great," she muttered before adding a slightly more supportive, "That's really awesome."

_"You don't sound very happy," _grumbled the Latina on the other end, _"but you wanted to talk about something, so out with it. I gots to gets my measurements for the uniform in by tomorrow."_

"Right," Stacy nodded. She took a short breath before she spoke, "You know how you, um, got fired? Well, you wanted to know the reason... I'm the reason. I told him you were a lesbian."

There was an angry silence on the other end and Stacy took this as permission to speak some more, "I'm so, _so _sorry, Sannie, I just -"

_"_Don't_ call me that," _the Latina hissed, clearly hurt, _"Stacy, you told. You _told! _You promised you wouldn't... and that dick is just the kind of gossip that's going to make sure _everyone _knows!"_

"I'm sorry," Stacy sighed, "I had to... At least I didn't keep it a secret, though, right?"

Santana scoffed,_ "Maybe next time you'll remember some things are better kept secrets, Stacy."_

With that, the line went dead.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **So, I'm proud of myself for updating semi-early (to my standards, at least. I know this is hardly early compared to some people who update every day). That, and I like how this turned out. :)

Anyways, in the early part of this chapter it lost some of its angsty side. It kinda regained it with the ending, but... oh well. It'll get happier by the ending. Speaking of which, I plan to end this with fifteen chapters or ten. But I doubt that I'll manage ten.

So... yeah! Read and review, and thanks to those that have. ;)


	8. Dinner Date

Santana was both mentally and physically exhausted. She had been working day by day, taking any shift she could at the gym and at McDonalds, just to assure herself she would be able to at least pay her cheerleading fees, even if it meant ridding herself of her cellphone and cable. Her apartment was a mess, laundry thrown in every corner, dishes piled in the sink, and a thick coating of dust on every inch of the apartment. Even her previously flawless physical appearance had began to falter. Her makeup couldn't hide the bags beneath her eyes and she had less time between her work shifts to care about her hair, beginning to result in uncombed ponytails sloppily thrown beneath a baseball cap.

But in her eyes, none of it compared to what was destroying her inside. She felt betrayed by what used to be her _only _source of comfort, aside from her very seldom phone calls to her older brother. Often she would just sit in the very few hours she had to herself and mope, bitter with herself for something she knew she shouldn't be ashamed of, but mostly infuriated with everyone and everything else. There was only one exception to that, though, and it was Brittany.

So, even when she knew she could be resting, she would agree to a coffee date with the blonde. Glancing at the clock, a very rare and private thing graced her tired features: a smile. Because now, she was scheduled to meet Brittany in thirty minutes. And she wouldn't miss it for the world.

* * *

><p>Brittany drummed her fingers on the tabletop, humming a tune to herself as she waited. She didn't normally get anxious about her meetings (Santana insisted that she not refer to them as "dates") with her friend, but today she was going to ask Santana a favor.<p>

"Hey, Britts," the blonde looked up to meet the sight of Santana, slipping into the seat opposite to her with a tired smile, "What's up?"

"Well, nothing," Brittany replied, smiling, "but I need to ask you something."

Santana raised an eyebrow, "What is it?"

"Well, I've got another one of those family dinners coming up," the blue-eyed young woman explained, "and I was wondering... well, I was wondering if you would, uh, want to come?"

One of those very rare, genuine smiles graced the Latina's features, "Sure, but when is it?"

"Oh," Brittany blushed lightly, "I forgot to mention that. Uh, tomorrow."

There was a relieved sigh from the other and something mumbled about "the day off" before Santana spoke, "Sure. I'll be there at... what time was it?"

Brittany smiled sheepishly, having forgot to mention that as well, "Seven."

"Perfect," Santana said, "I'll see you then."

* * *

><p>"Brittany, your friend's here!"<p>

The blonde hurried around the corner, slipping into her bathroom, "Oh," she muttered, patting down her hair while looking herself over in the mirror, "I'll be there in a minu-"

"Oh, come in, dear!"

Brittany all but ran to the front door and was faced with the sight of her mother introducing herself to her friend. She watched Santana as she spoke, "You have a," the Latina hesitated for a moment as she took in the lavishly decorated interior, "lovely home, Mrs. Pierce."

"Call me Georgia," her mother assured.

Brittany stepped forward, about to greet her friend before she was interrupted by her sister, "Well, if it isn't the ever talked about Santana," there was a twinge of an unidentified emotion in her sister's voice, "I'm Cassandra."

"Nice to meet you, Cassan- Oh, hey Britts," Santana smiled, peeking around the second oldest blonde woman and waving to her friend. Brittany smiled.

"Hiya," she said, joining the small party in the front doorway. She opened her mouth to speak, but their conversation was again interrupted as her mother suddenly shouted,

"_Minerva! _Do I smell something _burning _in there?" And then the woman was rushing out in a fuss, trailed by Cassandra who never left her mother's side whenever she was in town. The blonde laughed nervously, turning to Santana.

"I don't think we can be interrupted now."

Santana cracked a soft smile, "I guess not. Well, your house really _is _lovely, you know."

_"Brittany! Santana! Dinner's ready!"_

Both of the girls sighed simultaneously. Brittany was quick to recover, clasping the Latina's hand in hers and all but dragging her down the corridor, "Come on," she grinned, "Minerva's cooking is delicious."

* * *

><p>Dinner went by smoothly, with small talk initiated by Brittany's relatives between the appetizers, entrees, and desserts. When the meal finally came to an end, Brittany glanced at her mom hopefully, "Can I give Santana a tour?" she questioned, but by the look in her mother's eyes, she knew the answer before it came out of her mouth.<p>

"I think it's time for Santana to head home now, dear. It's getting late."

"Oh. Well, I'll walk her out-"

"Honey, you need your rest," Mrs. Pierce intervened, shaking her head, "tomorrow is going to be a long day for all of us. Let your sister do it while you go take a quick shower."

The blonde knew there was no sense in arguing and accepted defeat. Standing from her seat, she muttered a discouraged, "Fine," before waving good-bye to her friend and disappearing down the hall.

Santana skeptically questioned Georgia's haste, but decided it best not to say anything. When she stood and exchanged good-byes with Brittany's mother, she was quickly followed by Cassandra. A little_ too _quickly.

"Well, I had a nice night," Santana said to the woman as she slipped out of the front door, turning to head back down the driveway toward her car. She was stopped by a cold hand on her arm.

"Wait there a minute, will you?" Santana narrowed her eyes and locked her gaze with Cassandra's.

"Do you need something?"

"I just need a confirmation," the blonde continued vaguely, wearing a smirk and a cold stare.

"Well, I don't have all day," Santana retorted impatiently.

"Fine," the model hissed, "I'm just making sure you know to keep your grubby little _lesbian_ paws off of my sister."

Santana knew that Cassandra was relishing in her stunned silence. Before she could deny it, though, she whispered, "How did you...?"

"Know?" the woman finished, "I have my ways. Just know that if you push yourself onto my sweet little darling sister, I'll-"

_"Hey, Cassandra? How do you turn on the shower again?"_

Brittany rounded the corner and her sister quickly covered, "I'll see you at Tuesday's uniform fittings. Have a nice night, Santana."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Uh... not much to say. But this seems off. Hm.

Well, reviews are much appreciated. ;)


	9. Standing Up

This time Santana Lopez wasn't late for her cheerleading events.

Stepping into the small civic center parking lot just outside of downtown Dallas, the Latina shouldered her messenger bag and headed inside. Successfully skirting around the Pierces (she did, however, let her eyes linger over a familiar, _young _blonde), she assumed the fittings were taking place in the area where a large group of girls horded around the corner.

"Excuse me," she said none too kindly, shoving her way past a few so she could get to the front of the crowd. When she saw the man behind the dozens of uniforms, only one word popped into her head.

_Gay._

"Name, please?"

She blinked a bit as the feminine voice shocked her from her stupor, "Santana Lopez," she stated.

Nodding, he sifted through the many rhinestoned Dallas Cowboy skirts and tanks before producing hers and handing it over. "If you have any problems, come see me."

She took the outfit and nodded, taking just a second to read over his seemingly custom-made name tag:

_Kurt Anderson-Hummel._

* * *

><p>"Have you guys seen Santana?"<p>

Brittany cast a sweet, sheepish smile to her mother and sister who returned the look with raised eyebrows and feigned sympathy. "No, dear," Mrs. Pierce spoke first, casting a glance toward her oldest daughter as she continued, "I'm afraid I haven't. Don't worry though, you'll be able to see her at the first practice of the season."

Shrugging, the blonde stepped away, "No, I'm sure she's here somewhere," she looked around, "I'll go find her."

"No," Cassandra intervened, "You don't need to see her right now. Stay here and talk to us, sissy."

"I don't want to," Brittany bit back a little sharper than usual, earning a glare from her mother.

"Watch your tone, Brittany," she warned.

"I'm not going to _watch my tone," _the blonde retorted, stepping back a few feet, "I'm going to find my friend. Regardless of what you say."

At that, she walked away with two sets of shocked blue eyes watching as she left, proud for finally gathering the courage to stand up for herself.

* * *

><p>Naturally, there had to be something wrong with her uniform.<p>

Santana approached the small desk where one Kurt Anderson-Hummel sat, sketching in what could only be a design pad. He cast his glasz stare upward at the soun of approaching footsteps and sat up, "What's the problem?"

She explained the small issue of the skirt length before he was motioning for her to undress. At her skeptical gaze, he smirked, "Honey, don't worry. I'm gay."

_I assumed, _she thought briefly before shimmying out of her clothing, her thoughts travelling to how _open _he seemed to be about his sexuality, and, just as quickly as her mind had strayed, a brief jealousy curled into her stomach at his confidence. Her envy must have been evident on her face, because Kurt was instantly speaking in a quiet tone, "Closet lesbian?"

She nearly went to glare at him, but found herself speaking before she could get angry, "How did you-?"

"The look on your face," he answered, smiling sympathetically, "and the fact that the minute you walked in you looked at Mrs. Pierce's daughter like she was your world."

Santana gaped like a fish out of water for a split second before she attempted to cover her speechlessness by focusing on sliding into her skirt.

"You don't have to say anything," he assured her as he took his sewing kit and knelt by her side, "It wasn't my place to assume, anyways. At least I was right; if I wasn't, that would be a little awkward."

She watched him a moment longer before speaking, "It's fine."

He must have known from her tone of voice that it wasn't easy for her. After finishing up his tailoring, he stood, watching her for a moment before producing a small business card from his supplies, "If you need to talk," he explained with one look over his shoulder. At the realization that he had a few other uniforms in need of fixing, he excused himself from the Latina's presence and went to tend to the others.

She glanced down at the small card, reading over its content:

_Blaine Anderson-Hummel_

_Therapy_

_972-6589_

Shooting her eyes up, Kurt caught her eye and winked. She didn't have time to confront him, however, when a delicate hand rested on her shoulder.

Turning to see Brittany, she smiled, "Hey, Britts. How's it going?"

"Great," the blonde answered, grinning, "Are you done with your fitting? I'd like to go out for coffee."

"Oh, yeah," the Latina couldn't hide a smile, "Just let me get my stuff?"

"Of course," Brittany replied, pulling the other in for an impromptu embrace, "I'll be waiting right here."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Yay for updates? ;) I like this chapter a lot, but maybe it's just the fact Kurt's in it and he's married to Blaine... Sorry, I couldn't resist adding a little touch of my favorite ship! And yes, I know, it's a little short... oh well.

Now, next update won't be coming very soon. Next weekend I'll be in FL with a friend (Santana98) and I doubt I'll be able to bring my laptop, let alone find time to write. So, the update will either come the weekend after next or sometime in the Wednesday, Thursday, or Friday before.

As always, thanks to everyone! R&R!

P.S.: Thoughts on "Love Shack," anyone? I know _I _love it and I can't wait for Heart!


	10. Relations

When Santana pulled up to the door of the usual coffee hang out and saw that it had shut down, the first thing she did was mutter and angry, "Shit," before she turned to Brittany.

Brittany rocked lightly from heel to toe, stealing the a small glance around the parking lot before she locked eyes with Santana. "What now?" she wondered.

The Latina was silent for a moment before she spoke, "I don't know," she answered, taking her lip between her teeth, nibbling on the tender flesh while she thought. Deciding that coffee was out of the question (she was not going back to _that _place, nor was she wasting her gas on driving ten blocks uptown to find another shop), she simply offered, "How about we go for a walk?"

The blonde's blue eyes lit up, momentarily catching Santana off guard to where she nearly missed the response, "That sounds great!"

So the two set off down the street without making a decision on how long they would walk, or where they would walk, just that they would walk.

Somewhere during the first ten minutes of catching up on the other's lives, they had managed to step closer to where they were brushing shoulders each time they rounded a corner. A small, almost invisible smile formed on to Santana's lips - like it always did when the ditsy blonde was around - when she noticed this.

A good half hour later and they had just stepped out of a small candy store with a few inexpensive treats in hand. Brittany was about to offer a piece of fudge to the other when a sharp beeping emitted from the Latina's phone.

"Damn," Santana muttered, "I have to get to work. Can you get home from here, Britts?"

"Um, I think so," the blonde answered as she checked her bearings.

"Okay. Well, I'd better get going if I want to make it on time," Santana nodded, shouldering her purse, "I'll see you around?"

"Yeah," Brittany turned to her with a smile, "'Course."

Santana was sure she was going to be at least five minutes late. Because she knew she didn't move for a good few moments - and who could? - after Brittany S. Pierce pressed the softest, sweetest kiss to her cheek.

* * *

><p>"Where have you been?"<p>

Brittany let her silence speak volumes as she brushed past her overbearing mother. About halfway to the door, though, she stopped at the sound of her sister, "Undoubtedly out with that friend of hers."

Brittany wheeled around at the sound of that, closing the distance between her and Cassandra, "Why do you think she's such a bad person?" she questioned, "I've heard you talk about her. You and mom always say those things, thinking I can't hear them; she's a bitch, she's not good for me. You've never even talked to her outside of dinner and-"

"Words spread quickly, Britts," Cassandra interrupted, "Dallas may not be a small town but it is a small world and I've heard plenty about that Santana."

"I haven't heard anything," the younger sister protested.

"You don't have connections like I do."

"Whatever," Brittany mumbled, "It's still none of your business who-"

"Oh, but it is," Mrs. Pierce added, "because I will not have my daughter interacting with such an unholy person."

"Unholy?"

"She likes girls, Brittany. The way girls are supposed to like guys," Cassandra explained.

"Oh." The blonde wasn't frowning. She rocked a little before deciding it couldn't hurt; she was done with her family. So, with a smile and as she turned on her heel, she added, "Well, that's great. Because I do, too."

* * *

><p>It was just her luck that her car decided it wouldn't work. Santana sighed, kicked the front tire, cursed a bit at the pain before she turned and walked away. She had no money, spent it all at the candy store, and therefore couldn't get a cab. It was nearly ten and Brittany wasn't answering her phone and she really had no one else to rely on; she figured she might as well start walking. It was a long way to the apartment.<p>

She sighed again. At this rate she wouldn't get home until around midnight and she had the breakfast shift at McDonalds, the rent was due by two that afternoon, and she had a mandatory cheer workshop for the rest of the week from four to six. And she could still only afford Ramen noodles for dinner.

The next thing the Latina knew she was cutting corners, taking back alleys, trying to find any way to shorten the walk and therefore make the next few days a bit easier on her sleeping patterns. And these unplanned routes took her to only the worst of neighborhoods.

She couldn't count how many times she jumped at the littlest of sounds - animals, wind, trees - mixed among the flickering of the only orange street lamp and the soft sound of treading tires growing dangerously close behind her.

When the silver Lexus drove right beside her and stopped, the man in the passenger's seat was lucky Santana's aim was off; otherwise, he would have gotten an face full of pepper spray.

"Relax, Santana."

The voice was vaguely familiar. When the driver pulled up into the light of the street lamp, she let out the breath she didn't know she was holding at the sight of one Kurt Hummel.

"Yeah," the man laughed, "I wasn't expecting to see you here, either."

The Latina didn't have the time or energy to question it; instead she let him come to the assumptions.

"Alright, since this obviously isn't where you live, why don't you let me give you a ride?"

With a nod, Santana climbed into the back of the polished vehicle. She briefly acknowledged another man driving as the car before she was sinking into the tan leather, head leaning against the window, and falling asleep.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Well, that was a nice... fluffy-ish chapter (with added drama with the Pierces, but that aside). I updated sooner than I expected so some props to me? Anyways, I liked this alright. It feels off but everything else I tried to write was complete rubbish. Also, if some of you could do me a favor... I feel like there some things I'm leaving unanswered, so if at least one person could list some questions they have about the story, I would be grateful.

Thanks to everyone, R&R. ;)


	11. NOTICE

Notice

I will be putting this story on hiatus. I haven't had much of an inspiration lately and I think I got in a little over my head when I posted the first chapter. I had nothing planned, and I think it shows a lot, and I can't be content with that. There is a lot of revision to be done if I want to perfect (or at least get semi-close) this story (which, of course, I do). Until I get a muse and the time to revise, I will not post any more chapters.

But, since I would hope most of you are Brittana fans, I have a lot of Brittana stories in the making (or at least, I've written down general idea and planned somewhat into it) that are, in my eyes, very promising. So keep on the look out for those, if you will. :)

Now, a brief thank you to everyone who's read and tolerated the gaps in plotlines, the obvious lack of planning, and the errors in continuity. I hope you like the story enough to stick around! Feel free to PM me with any questions, etc. :)


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